


One Day

by Twice_before_Friday



Series: October? No, I think you mean Whumptober [13]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Breathing issues, Chemical Pneumonia, Gen, Oxygen mask, Team Dynamics, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:48:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26988508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twice_before_Friday/pseuds/Twice_before_Friday
Summary: Prompt No 13. BREATHE IN BREATHE OUTDelayed Drowning |Chemical Pneumonia|Oxygen MaskIt's just after Malcolm returns to the table with their second round of drinks that he begins to cough a little. Nothing concerning. Not at first. Just a tightness in his lungs, like he gets after chasing a suspect for too long.But it quickly gets worse.
Series: October? No, I think you mean Whumptober [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947595
Comments: 13
Kudos: 96
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	One Day

The paramedics give them the all clear at the site. After their suspect used the chlorine stored at the pool in an attempt to slow them all down, Gil insisted all four of them get checked out before calling it a night. The suspect (who was apprehended before he could even make it to his car, despite the diversion) was examined as well and then passed off to the uniforms on scene to take in for booking.

They all have a fuckton of paperwork to get through, but after they're given cleanish bills of health, Gil tells them to call it a night.

"I'll head back to the precinct and get him processed," Gil says, scrubbing a hand over his goatee. "The paperwork can wait until morning. Go home, or better yet, go out for drinks" Gil says as he pulls out his wallet and hands a twenty to JT, "first round's on me."

"Sure you don't wanna come, boss?" JT asks as he tucks the bill in his pocket with a nod of thanks.

"Absolutely," Gil smiles, "I'm not as young as I used to be. There's a reclining chair and a glass of whiskey with my name on it at home. Have a good night, kids."

Twenty minutes later they're at a cop bar not far from the crime scene, a round of drinks in front of them and a relaxed atmosphere in the air. It's not unusual for the team to go out for drinks following a case, so it takes no time at all for them to settle into casual conversation, talking about everything from the case, to weekend plans, to Tally's last ultrasound (after much discussion, JT and Tally opted _not_ to find out the gender of the baby, deciding not to ruin one of life's only real surprises).

It's just after Malcolm returns to the table with their second round of drinks that he begins to cough a little. Nothing concerning. Not at first. Just a tightness in his lungs, like he gets after chasing a suspect for too long.

But it quickly gets worse.

"Hey, man, you okay?" JT asks, placing a hand on Malcolm's shoulder as he gives into another coughing fit, but this time he can't seem to stop.

It takes a concerning amount of time for the fit to subside, and when it does, the best Malcolm can manage are short, rapid breaths that don't provide nearly enough oxygen to his starving lungs.

"Chest...hurts…" Malcolm grits out between gasping breaths. He brings the heel of his hand to his chest and rubs hard, trying to massage his aching lungs through the barrier of his ribcage.

Dani leans across the table, eyebrows furrowing as she tries to get a good look at him in the crappy lighting above their table.

"Call an ambulance," Dani says to JT, pushing to her feet and rushing around the table, dropping to a crouch next to Malcolm, "his lips are turning blue."

She works to undo his tie as she speaks, gently pushing his hand out of the way as she slides the silk fabric off and sets it on the table. Malcolm is vaguely aware of JT pulling out his phone and speaking quickly to the 9-1-1 operator, giving a thorough but concise listing of his symptoms as soon as he's provided their location, knowing that the more information the paramedics have before arriving, the faster they'll be able to treat him, but he's so distracted by the lack of air getting to his lungs that he barely makes sense of the words.

"Bright, try and stay calm, okay?" Dani says, drawing his attention back to her. "Help is coming."

"What the fuck is happening?" JT asks as he hangs up the phone. He's sitting sideways in his chair at this point, directly facing Malcolm, and Malcolm is surprised when JT's hand lands warm on his back, rubbing soothing circles that don't help Malcolm breathe any easier but seem to lessen the panic that's starting to bubble up inside of him as he begins to understand the severity of the situation.

His head is pounding and he's not sure that it's entirely the result of oxygen depletion. He's also beginning to sweat, and the combination of all the symptoms leads him to believe this isn't some minor ailment that will pass on its own.

He's scared.

"Must have something to do with the chlorine?" Dani says, trying to stay calm, but Malcolm can see the fear shining bright in her eyes, can hear it in the tremor in her voice.

It means more to him than they'll ever know that they both stay next to him, trying to keep him calm until the paramedics arrive, one hand warm on his back and another on his arm.

Until Malcolm suddenly jerks to his feet when he starts coughing up a pink froth that makes it almost impossible to suck in any air at all.

"Fuck!" JT shouts as he pushes to his feet next to Malcolm. 

Dani meanwhile, runs to the door as sirens and flashing lights float through the window, not a moment too soon. In a matter of seconds she's holding the door open for the medics and directing them to the table.

Not that they would need her there to point out where to go. He's causing quite the commotion in the small bar, drawing concerned looks from all the patrons as he chokes and sputters and is held up mostly by JT, and he's not even sure when the burly detective grabbed hold of him. It doesn't matter though because, almost immediately, JT is helping to lower him on the waiting stretcher and an oxygen mask is strapped over his face, trying to pump air into his spasming lungs.

The ride to the hospital is a blur of panic and spotted vision and gasping breaths that Malcolm understands, even in the moment, that he'll have little recollection of when everything is said and done. 

His time in the emergency room passes much the same. He tries to take note of what they're saying, what they're doing to him, but he's weaving in and out of consciousness and it's difficult to ignore the ache in his chest and the fear of being unable to breathe in order to pick up more than snatches of conversation.

Tachycardia.

Cyanosis.

Chemical pneumonitis.

He passes out before he has a chance to hear his prognosis.

When he wakes up several hours later, it's to find himself in a hospital bed with an oxygen mask still strapped to his face. Fortunately, he's finally able to suck precious air into his lungs without much effort, though it burns a little, deep in his chest.

"Hey, man," JT's voice comes from his left as he's getting his bearings, and he turns his head to find an exhausted looking JT and Dani next to his bed, looking terribly uncomfortable in the plastic hospital chairs set up at his bedside. "You look like shit."

Malcolm huffs a laugh and regrets it immediately as it seems to ignite a fire in his chest. He squeezes his eyes shut against the pain and steadies his breathing, feeling Dani's cold hand wrap over his as he settles.

He doesn't even bother trying to speak when he's ready to open his eyes again, just arches an eyebrow at the two detectives beside his bed, the question exceedingly clear in his eyes.

_What the hell happened?_

"Uh. Something like chemical pneumonia?" JT says, clearly unsure about the term. "Apparently that chlorine had a pretty funky effect on your lungs."

Malcolm's eyes go wide, gesturing between the two of them, worried that they could be in danger, too.

"Nah, man, we're fine," JT assures him. "So is Gil. He's grabbing coffees, by the way. I think you messed up his plans for relaxing at home, so you better prepare those puppy dog eyes for when he gets back."

Malcolm smiles beneath his mask, happy that his team is safe, even if he doesn't understand why it hit him so hard when they were all exposed to the same dose.

Dani gives his hand a squeeze and bites down on her lip before she speaks up, obviously knowing what Malcolm is thinking but unsure about providing him with an answer.

"The levels of chlorine we were exposed to weren't severe enough to cause issues in a...healthy adult." Dani drops her eyes as she speaks and Malcolm starts to wonder where this is going. "Um, it turns out your repeated exposure to chloroform…"

Dani lets the sentence trail off and gives his hand another squeeze in apology, but JT catches his eye and finishes the statement.

"Repeated exposure to chloroform when you were a kid kinda messed up your lungs, bro. Enough that the chlorine from today caused the pneumonia thing."

Of course.

Even twenty years later, Doctor Martin Whitly is destroying his life.

"You're gonna be fine, though," Dani hurries to assure him. "Good as new in no time."

"Or as good as you ever get," JT mutters, but the way his eyes are darting over Malcolm's face, it's clear he's worried about him, and not just because of the chemical pneumonitis. 

Malcolm smiles, knowing that even if they can't see the tilt of his lips beneath the mask, they'll see in his eyes that he's okay. Or rather, that he'll _be_ okay.

One day.

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to KateSamantha on this one for the plot suggestion! I hope it turned out okay for you ❤


End file.
